


TwentySkateTeen

by Cryo_Bucky, Waffilicious



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Roller Derby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 13:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15120176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryo_Bucky/pseuds/Cryo_Bucky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waffilicious/pseuds/Waffilicious
Summary: When Sam demands Steve get out more, he recommends roller derby. Steve's reluctant, but gives it a shot anyway. He's definitely not expecting to have as much fun as he does... or to meet a guy with a mustache that looks straight out of the 1970s. Honestly, what iswiththatmustache?





	TwentySkateTeen

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Cryo-Bucky for the amazing art that immediately made me want to write a fic for it. As soon as I saw it, I knew that's what I wanted to work with. Also thank you so much for being a great cheering squad for me throughout the process! It was so amazing to work with you. I hope we get to do it again in the future!

“Dude, you have to get out more. Meet people. I refuse to be your only friend.”

Steve scowled into his mug. This wasn’t the first time Sam had brought up this argument, and it went the same way every time.

“I have other friends, Sam.”

“Yeah, Nat, Sharon--friends from work. You need to meet people other ways.”

“I’m busy. I just moved here. What do you want from me?”

“You moved here six months ago, and we are literally on a friend date that we have weekly. You can make time. You have no excuses.”

Steve threw up his hands in frustration. Yeah, this was going the same way it always did. “What do you want me to do, Sam? Just throw myself out there? Introduce myself to random people on the subway? Start online dating?”

“Come to roller derby with me.”

Steve froze and stared. That was a new one.

“I… what?”

“Look. Nat, Sharon, and I have more in common than just being your only friends. We also all play roller derby, and by that token, you would also love it.”

“I can’t skate, Sam.”

“We’ll teach you. There’s a rookie night coming up, we introduce people to the game and teach ‘em what they need to know.”

“I’m not joining roller derby, Sam.”

“Why not?”

“I just… I can’t… I’m not…”

Sam gave Steve the most unimpressed look Steve had ever seen him make. “Yeah. Sure. Okay. You can’t. I get it. That’s never stopped you before, but sure. I’m not going to push you if you _can’t.”_

Silence fell, and they both sipped at their lattes angrily. Steve fumed. He knew what Sam’s play was. He was trying to goad him into it. And guilt trip him at the same time. It was a shitty, underhanded thing to do, and it made Steve even less inclined to go along with the idea than if Sam had just straight-up asked.

But the thing was, he had. And he’d suggested other things for Steve to do, time and time again, and Steve just… hadn’t done anything any of those times except say “maybe.”

Yeah, it had been six months since he’d moved back to New York, and despite moving back to the same neighborhood he’d grown up in, he didn’t feel any more connected or rooted or settled than when he’d first arrived. Granted, it’s not like he’d been doing much better for himself on the West Coast, or at any other point in his life, really. He’d always been withdrawn, introverted, and chronically incapable of getting out and making friends or doing interesting things--unless you counted getting into fights with assholes, and no one with any intelligence ever did.

All that probably wouldn’t have even been that bad if he’d actually done stuff on his own to begin with. But he didn’t. He sat at home and sulked and blamed his lack of personal creative output on artist’s block and… wallowed in his depression.

It wasn’t a sudden revelation. Steve had been suspecting it of himself for a while, but again, he’d done nothing about it.

And all Sam had done was try to help, in his own way.

Fuck.

Steve sighed.

“I’m sorry Sam, I…”

“Nah, man. _I’m_ sorry. That was a really shitty thing to say. You really don’t have to come if you don’t want. I just thought it’d be fun.”

“Sam, no. You’re trying to help. And I’ve done nothing but shut you down.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well. I know you’re having a rough time. You have to know your limits. I just think yours aren’t as narrow as you think they are.”

Steve didn’t have a reply to that. Sam was… probably right. The man was a counselor, after all, he knew what he was talking about. And… well. Roller derby. Steve had known Sam was into it, and he’d heard Nat and Sharon talk about it, but he hadn’t looked into it himself. He’d kind of assumed it was the domain of tough biker chicks until he found out his friends played, and… well, knowing his friends, it really only shifted the assumption from “tough biker chicks” to “tough ex-military/ex-CIA/other scary people who needed some kind of outlet for their adrenaline junkie-ness in their day-to-day lives.” Which didn’t include skinny, nearly disabled people like him.

But he knew Sam wouldn’t invite him if he didn’t think Steve could do it, or if he thought Steve wouldn’t absolutely love it. So....

“Okay. When is it?”

Sam smiled, and it was so infectious that Steve couldn’t help but smile back.

 

Sam had insisted that Steve only needed to bring a mouth guard and a bottle of water to rookie night, so that’s what Steve did, even though it made him feel woefully unprepared. Granted, given that he had no idea what he was stepping into, he probably would’ve felt the same way even if he had been completely outfitted in whatever gear he needed for this crazy sport.

He’d done a little research, which mostly consisted of looking up games on YouTube, and what he’d found was that roller derby was _intense._ It was full contact, in a way that could rival some football games, mostly because derby players were on _roller skates._ It was, frankly, kind of terrifying. But everyone looked like they were having so much fun, and everything he read emphasized the community just as much as the women sending each other flying head over heels.

So Steve put on the workout pants he hardly ever wore, bought a cheap mouth guard and molded it to his mouth, filled up a water bottle, and went to roller derby.

The team practiced at a rink about half an hour away by public transit, and the place was clearly a relic of an earlier time, when roller skating was a thing people actually did on weekends and not a novelty or nostalgia. The place was called SHIELD Rink, which apparently was an acronym for something long and convoluted that didn’t matter. The building was kind of sad and run down, but clearly whoever ran the place was doing their best to keep it up as well as they could. 

When Steve walked in, he thought he’d shown up late. There were already about twenty people on the rink, skating around the oval track, taking direction from a couple of people in the center. Steve stopped by the wall for a minute to watch. It looked like they were practicing some pretty fancy footwork, then grouping up for drills.

It was _loud._ The sound of skates hitting the floor--clattering as the skaters stepped and dodged and, yes, collided. The coaches in the middle had to keep their voices loud to make themselves heard, which had the ultimate effect of making everything seem chaotic.

A hand on his shoulder made him turn, and he found Sam smiling at him.

“Hey man, you made it.”

Steve gave a nervous smile back. “Uh… yeah, I guess. Not sure what I’m doing here, but yeah.”

“Deep breaths. It’s all good. C’mon, let’s get you registered.”

Sam led him over to an area with booths and tables and a small crowd of people going through gear, but steered him away from the pads, skates, and helmets to a table with stacks of paper.

“Over here first. You have to put your information down and sign a waiver.”

“A waiver?”

“Yeah. I mean, it is a full contact sport, and skating on its own can be pretty dangerous, so. Just as a precaution.”

Steve couldn’t help his nervous laugh. “Right.”

“Hey, relax. We take safety very seriously here. That’s the whole point of the waiver, to make sure you understand the risks.”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded as he took the paperwork and sat down with it.

“I gotta go help out some of the other rookies. When you’re done, hand those in to Scarlet Witch over there, and she’ll get you started with some loaner gear, okay?” Sam pointed at a young woman with red-brown hair and a distinctly bohemian look who was helping out what must have been other rookies.

The paperwork was pretty standard stuff, asking for name, contact info, and emergency contacts, so it only took a couple minutes to fill out. He read through the waiver--also fairly standard, and something he really should have expected--signed it, and headed over to Scarlet to hand them in. She smiled and introduced herself and helped him get some gear that fit, and then they all sat down for an introduction to derby, the league, and what they’d be doing that night.

Honestly, everything after the paperwork was a blur. After seeing the team practicing, Steve had gotten excited, but his extreme inexperience was making his anxiety go wild. Some of the people leading the rookie night were definitely talking about how they all started with different levels of experience, and everyone progressed at their own pace, and that was _really okay, honestly it was,_ but the voice in Steve’s head whispered that while that may be so, they definitely wouldn’t appreciate someone who had no athletic ability just hanging out in the low ranks rookies forever, like Steve was sure to do.

When it was finally time to get up on skates, Steve felt exactly like Bambi on ice. The other rookies seemed to be getting the hang of it right away, or maybe they’d skated before, but Steve was stuck just… wobbling. Barely moving. Terrified out of his mind. It was ridiculous and he knew it. What the hell was wrong with him? What was it about strapping four wheels to his feet that turned him into a shaking mess?

_Come on. Deep breaths, Rogers. Don’t be a baby._

He was only on the track for about a minute before a skater rolled up next to him.

“Hey, you need any help?”

Steve attempted a smile. “Oh, you know. Just great.” Wait, did that even make sense? Fuck. And of course it had to be right then that he lost his balance, again, but the helpful skater shot her arms out and caught him before he faceplanted.

“Whoa, watch out there! I take it this is your first time on skates?”

“What gave it away?” Steve didn’t mean to sound bitter, honestly he didn’t.

She laughed brightly, without a trace of malice or teasing. “Hey, we all have to start somewhere. You should’ve seen me my first night! No worries. Let me help! It’s what I’m here for.” She was still holding on to him, and Steve was a little ashamed of how much of his balance was relying on her support.

“Yeah, I guess I need it, huh.”

“No problem! Here, how about I skate backwards in front of you, and you just hold my hands? Just so you’ve got that support.”

“Uh… yeah, okay.”

“Great.” She beamed, and with a fluid movement she skated into place in front of him, holding his arms steady. Steve wobbled a bit, but when she started to slowly go backwards, he was able to inch right along after her.

“That looks great! I’m Wasp, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Uh... Steve. Is Wasp your, uh…”

“Derby name? Yeah. It’s short for Whip And Score Points. It was supposed to be a kind of play on White Anglo-Saxon Protestants, you know? I thought it was hilarious when I came up with it, but now everyone just knows me as Wasp, and I kind of like it better that way these days. How’d you hear about us?”

“Oh. Uh… my friends are in the league and they’ve bugged me enough about getting out and doing something that I figured I should give it a try.”

“Even though you’ve never done it before? That’s awesome! It takes a lot of bravery to get on skates for the first time.”

“Yeah? I don’t feel brave.” He felt more like he was about to vibrate into pieces from nerves.

“No really, you are! It’s a totally different way of moving and holding yourself and it’s all in pursuit of a sport which is, frankly, pretty crazy, you know? Anybody who does derby has a ton of courage, I think.”

Steve made a little noise and looked down at his feet to try to figure out how to move them better, but Wasp tugged a little on his arm.

“Hey, no, look at me. You look down, that’s where you’re going to go. Look where you want to head, okay?”

Steve nodded and looked up at Wasp, who was still smiling encouragingly at him.

“That’s it. Now try to shift your weight a little.”

Wasp stuck with him for a good half an hour like that, coaching him into the right stance and moving the right way until he felt less like Bambi and more like he almost sort of knew what he was doing kind of.

She stuck with him through the rest of practice too, as Sharon (or Lucky 13, as she introduced herself) led the rookies in introductory drills that Steve didn’t feel comfortable trying just yet. Wasp helped him work on just getting around the track first, until she was skating next to him just holding his hand, and then without any support at all, just her keeping an eye on him and giving tips as they went.

By the time they were all called into the middle to re-introduce themselves and share something they were happy with from that practice, Steve felt ready to collapse. But… he’d gone from not being able to skate at all to managing to inch around the track on his own. And yeah, it had been terrifying, but watching the advanced skaters so encouragingly helping everyone out and demonstrate what to do made him want to get better. And he envied the easy camaraderie he’d seen between all the skaters. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to give it a shot. He wanted to _skate._

At the end, as everyone was taking off their gear and chatting, Scarlet came up to him and sat down nearby.

“So what did you think? Are you coming back?”

Steve took a breath and nodded as he pulled off a skate. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

Scarlet beamed. “I’m so glad to hear that. It was great to watch you tonight, you really made a ton of progress.”

Steve blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Scarlet nodded. “You were so persistent. Everyone was impressed. Even Winter hung out just to watch.”

Steve frowned. “Who’s Winter?”

Scarlet nodded over to one of the coaches from the team practice, a man who… admittedly would be very attractive if it weren’t for the heinous seventies mustache he sported. He was helping to put gear away, and yeah, he looked good right until he turned around. That _mustache._

“Winter Soldier,” Scarlet explained. “He’s one of the coaches. He can be a little intense for the rookies, so he doesn’t usually stick around after the main practice, but he’s still here.” She shrugged and smiled. “I think we’re all just excited to see so much drive in our new rookies.” She stood. “Well, see you next practice!”

“Yeah, see you then.” Steve smiled back and Scarlet went to go talk to some of the other rookies.

 

Steve knew he was going to be sore when he left practice, but he didn’t realize _how_ sore until he woke up the next day. He was aching in places he didn’t know _had_ muscles, let alone ones needed for roller skating. He creaked into a hot shower and groaned into work, where both Nat and Sharon cornered him at lunch, grinning at him.

“We really worked you last night, huh?” Sharon asked, elbowing him playfully as she unwrapped her lunch.

“Don’t judge me,” Steve whined.

“I’m not. I’m proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself, trying a new thing like that.”

Nat nodded in agreement. “It takes guts to strap on skates, and even more to keep doing it day after day.”

“Yeah, well, the rate I’m going it’ll be years before I can skate the way you guys can.”

“That’s okay,” Sharon said simply.

Steve snorted, skeptical.

“No, I mean it. It’s not a team or a name that makes a derby player.”

“Yeah? What does?”

Nat held out a finger. “Derby players get up.” She held up a second. “Derby players come back.” She leaned back, shrugging. “That’s all there is to it.”

Steve mulled on that, chewing his lunch thoughtfully.

“Hey, if you ever want a ride, Nat and I like to do a carpool thing where we grab dinner after work and then head over to practice. It’d mean you’d be getting there early for rookie stuff, but you wouldn’t have to deal with the subway crowds.”

Interrupted out of his train of thought, Steve blinked. “That… would actually be great, thank you.” Getting there early wasn’t a big deal. It meant he could watch the practice, maybe sketch the players or something. Then he frowned suspiciously at his friends. “What would you have done if I’d’ve said no?”

Sharon snorted into her sandwich and Nat grinned wickedly. “Probably would’ve kidnapped you,” Nat said before popping a chip into her mouth and looking entirely too smug.

Steve sighed. “Well at least you’re being honest about it.” He knew his friends. If he really didn’t want to go back, they would give him the space, but they also weren’t at all sympathetic to lousy excuses. And honestly, having the extra incentive to get his ass back to practice was helpful. Because yeah. It would be really easy to talk himself out of it.

 

In an incredibly unfair turn of events, Steve was even _more_ sore the next day. It was enough that he briefly entertained the idea of calling out of work and skipping practice, but he knew Nat would probably text him incessantly all day long and then she and Sharon would come by and kidnap him anyway. Besides, he didn’t call out of work unless he really needed to, and he could move. He just didn’t like it.

At work, he grumbled when Sharon checked in with him about that evening, but he didn’t say he was ducking out, so at five o’clock on the dot, he was flanked by two very intimidating women who leaned in very close as they stared at his screen.

“Whatcha workin’ on?” Nat asked.

“Is it more important than food? Or derby?” Sharon added.

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes and poked them both in the sides, but they just laughed as he saved his work and got ready to go. 

Despite the fact that it was all very consensual, it still felt like a kidnapping when they looped arms with Steve and just about dragged him to the garage, bullied him into Sharon’s car, and took him to their dinner spot for the evening. They told him stories about games they’d played, went into nearly overwhelming detail about the sorts of things they were working on as a team, and gossiped heavily about other teams in the area.

“So there’s us, the Marvel Babes, and our B team, the Marvelettes. We’re a part of the larger Gotham Girls Roller Derby league, but we’re kind of our own thing? It’s complicated.” Sharon waved her hand to dismiss that. “League politics is not something you need to know about right now, it’ll just confuse you.”

“Or make you mad,” Nat added.

“Yeah. Anyway, the Gotham Girls A team is the All-Stars, they’re the ones that play for ranking in the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association. You’ll hear most people calling it WFTDA.”

Steve snorted. “Woof-tada?”

“Yup. So the other teams in the city all play against each other, that’s the Brooklyn Bombshells, the Manhattan Mayhem, the Queens of Pain, and the Bronx Gridlock. There’s also a few travel teams, and a few men’s teams. Sam actually plays for the New York Shock Exchange sometimes when he’s not officiating for us. There’s also Hydra, but they suck and we don’t talk about them.”

“We don’t?”

Nat shook her head. “They’re assholes. Almost all of derby, both the men’s and the women’s, is really accepting. There’s drama, there’ll always be drama, but both WFTDA and MRDA,” and she pronounced it murr-dah, “have it specifically written into their charters to be open and non-discriminatory. But Hydra basically think they’re the gods of roller derby and think we should be a little more _exacting_ about what makes a man or a woman, for example.”

“Also they think it should be a men’s sport primarily, since men are superior in every way, apparently.”

 _“And_ they were assholes to Winter.”

Steve blinked. “Wait, what?” The rest of it was bad enough, but he could tell from Nat’s tone that whatever they’d done to Winter was _specifically_ a dick move, and not just because it was someone they knew personally.

Nat shook her head. “That’s Winter’s story to tell, if he wants to. Suffice to say, we don’t fuck with Hydra, but they goad us and all the other teams in New York a _lot.”_

“How do they even get players? I mean if derby as a whole is so accepting, how do they still exist?”

Sharon shrugged. “Because it’s a full contact sport and a lot of dudes like that and there’s always going to be assholes and they tend to group together? I don’t know.”

“They’re a fact of the game we have to live with, is really all there is to it.”

“Yeah, don’t get caught up in that, Steve. Focus on your own skating first, then if you want to lead a crusade against Hydra we’ll be all in.”

Steve was about to say something to argue, but Nat held up a hand. “No, seriously. We shouldn’t have brought it up. You can’t fight all the assholes everywhere, Steve, especially since you’re still a rookie.”

Steve frowned, but he let it go. Sometime down the line he’d think about it again, but he had to admit they were right. He had to focus on his own skating or he wouldn’t get anywhere.

 

Realizing how much time they’d lost track of during all the talk, Sharon and Nat had to rush to the rink, Steve in tow, and even then they only just barely made it to their practice on time. Steve found a spot by the rink to watch as everyone warmed up, skating fast circles around the track. He didn’t notice Winter out in the middle like he had been last time--tonight it was a severe looking woman with short brown hair who wielded her whistle like a weapon as she directed the warm up and then the practice. Steve took out his sketchbook and did some loose figure practice while he watched, getting lost in the noise and action for a bit.

“That’s Maria,” said a soft voice next to him, and Steve startled to find Winter leaning up against the wall next to him, nodding out at the leader of the practice. “We take turns leading so that no one gets too comfortable.”

A little shocked, Steve wet his lips and fidgeted with his pencil. “Doesn’t she have a derby name?”

Winter shook his head. “Nah, it’s not her thing.”

“I thought it was like… a requirement.”

Winter shook his head again. “It’s a tradition, and most people pick a name, yeah, but we’re not going to force a name on anyone who doesn’t want one.”

Steve couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that, so he just nodded and fidgeted with his pencil some more, not really comfortable with going back to sketching with a stranger watching.

After some time that was maybe a little awkward, Winter took a breath. “I’m Bucky, by the way. People call me Winter around here, but… Bucky’s my real name.”

“Uh… I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah.” Bucky made an aborted motion like he was going to offer his hand to Steve to shake, but thought better of it. With the movement, Steve couldn’t help but notice that Bucky’s left arm was… well. Not there. He tried to look away before Bucky could notice that he’d seen, but from the sigh he heard, he must’ve been caught.

“Uh… yeah. I um. I usually wear my prosthetic on rookie night so that anyone who shows up early doesn’t freak out or think you can lose your arm in derby or something. But um. It’s uncomfortable so I… don’t usually wear it to practice.” It came out awkwardly, and Steve could sense that this was something Bucky didn’t usually like talking about. So why was he telling Steve?

Steve realized he’d been quiet a beat too long, and must have made Bucky even more anxious. Well damn, this was going badly.

“It wasn’t a derby injury, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

“It wasn’t?” Well if Bucky was going to keep talking about it, Steve was going to be as polite as possible, dammit.

“No. Iraq.”

Steve blinked and opened his mouth, but Bucky interrupted him. “Please don’t thank me for my service,” he said. “It sucked. I appreciate the thought, but I’m done being thanked.” He sighed heavily and looked down at the floor. “I did this all wrong, I’m sorry. I meant to come over here and make conversation and here I am being a sob story.” He ran his hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp, and shook his head. “I wanted to introduce myself and talk because I saw you on rookie night and… I wanted to say I’m glad you came back.”

Steve swallowed and nodded. “Thanks. But there were a bunch of other rookies. Why me?”

Bucky frowned, his whole brow tightening up. He was quiet for a second, clearly struggling with himself, before he finally burst out with “because I think you’re really attractive and Widow said I should talk to you.”

Well. That was unexpected.

“I… what? Wait, by Widow do you mean Nat?”

“Yeah.” Bucky was blushing furiously now, and honestly it was pretty cute. Except for the mustache. God, that fucking mustache. But Steve couldn’t help but laugh, which just made Bucky blush more. “What’s so funny?”

“Nat, honestly. This is just like her. So you think I’m attractive and you’ve come over and introduced yourself. Now what?”

Bucky shrugged. “I hadn’t gotten that far.”

This was all so ridiculous that Steve kind of careened right over the cliffs of awkwardness and right into _this might as well just happen_ territory. “Well I’m pretty out of my depth too, so how ‘bout we just keep talking and see where that gets us. How do you know Nat? From the team?”

Bucky took a breath and seemed to relax a little when he realized he wasn’t being rejected out right. “Yeah. She and the others have been really supportive since I got back, which was… god, a couple years ago now. Time flies, I guess.” He wet his lips and seemed to get more comfortable with the idea of just… talking, like a normal person. Steve just smiled and waited patiently. See, Sam? He could make friends. He was doing it right now. “So uh… how do you know Nat?”

“We work together. Me and her and Sharon all work for the same company. They’re project managers and I’m a graphic designer. I have no idea why they decided to be friends with me, but I haven’t been able to get rid of them.”

Bucky actually laughed softly at that, and Steve had to admit it looked good on him. And it was a really nice sound too. 

_Goddammit, Rogers, stop that. He’s got a fucking caterpillar on his lip for chrissake, there’s no way you could date the guy._

But it was hard to silence the thoughts once they’d started, and as they chatted, both of them warmed up and relaxed to the point where Steve was actually imagining what dating Bucky would look like.

Except dating would involve kissing, and there was no way Steve was kissing that mustache.

At some point, Sam skated to a screeching halt next to them, wide-eyed and grinning.

“Steve, what’re you doing talking to Vlad the Impaler over here? Hasn’t anybody warned you about him?”

Bucky grinned and shoved at Sam playfully where he was leaning on the wall. “Don’t forget, the mustache is your fault, Falc.”

Sam groaned. “Don’t remind me. Get rid of it already! Spare everyone the eyesore!”

“Nope,” Bucky popped the p and put his hand on his hip. “You gotta live with it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and groaned again and skated off.

Steve, who had watched the exchange in bemusement, finally managed to ask, “so… what was that about?”

Bucky chuckled and shrugged. “I lost a bet and Sam told me I had to have a mustache for a month. He regretted it almost immediately, but I kept it to make him mad. I’ll get rid of it when it stops being funny.”

“How long has it been?”

“Four months. Honestly I might get rid of it when it starts getting hot. Lip sweat is a real thing and it is not fun.”

“Oh thank god.” Steve let out a breath, feeling relieved in an entirely unexpected way. _Why was he so obsessed with the fate of the mustache._

Bucky lifted his eyebrows. “What, don’t you like it?”

“Did I say that out loud?” Steve felt horrified for a moment, but honestly. He was justified.

Thankfully, Bucky grinned. “It’s okay. I know how awful it looks. I look alright with a full beard or scruffy, but I really prefer being clean shaven.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ve never tried a goatee, but I imagine that would be pretty bad too.”

Steve couldn’t suppress his shiver at the thought. Bucky laughed again. “In my defense,” Steve said, “I’m an artist, I’m sensitive to these things.”

“Sure you are,” Bucky said. He winked.

“Oh look, it’s time for me to gear up,” Steve said quickly.

 

For the next few weeks, practices went a lot like that. Nat and Sharon would take him to dinner, they’d chat, and then Steve would watch while the team practiced. If Bucky was leading it, Steve would sketch, but if Maria was, then they’d talk for the hour and a half before Steve had to get on skates and on the track himself.

It was… it was really nice. And it wasn’t just Bucky he was making friends with. The other rookies in his group were all incredibly supportive of each other, and honestly a riot to hang out with. There was Shuri and MJ, a couple who had promised each other that as soon as they turned eighteen they’d join roller derby; Peter, the friend they’d dragged along but who was obviously having the time of his life; Clint, another friend of Nat’s that she’d convinced to join; and Jessica, a woman who was very intense but had the kind of dark sense of humor that Steve found hilarious even though he didn’t want to admit it. They were kind of a rag tag group, but Wasp led them through training enthusiastically, and it was impossible not to be inspired by that energy.

And despite his misgivings about his own skills, Steve could tell he was getting better. With every practice he attended, he could do a little more, and had a little more confidence. He wasn’t going to be cleared for contact any time soon, that was for sure, but he could feel good about his progress regardless. Besides, he wasn’t interested in slamming into anybody else on skates just yet. He was good learning to skate backwards.

 

One evening, during their chat before rookie practice, Steve asked Bucky how he got into derby. Unexpectedly, Bucky got quiet and serious.

“You don’t… have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” Steve said.

“No, it’s okay. I want you to hear the story at some point. I mean… it’s not that much of a story. I had a boyfriend for a little while who skated for Hydra, and he thought it would be fun to get me to join. And it was fun, for a while. I picked things up really quickly and was one of their best Jammers for a good couple of years. My ex was… he was big into the macho shit, so the full contact part really got him off, and it was a pretty wild time. I was pretty young, so I just went with it. Then he got deployed, and I thought I was in love so I signed up thinking I could follow him out there, but that’s… obviously not how it works.”

Bucky went quiet and took a deep breath. Steve just watched, knowing there wouldn’t be anything he could say that would help in the moment.

“Like I’ve told you, Iraq sucked. I won’t go into it, but I uh… I actually got captured and was a POW for… well they tell me it was six months, but to me it just felt like forever. That’s how I lost my arm. When I got back, my ex was already fucking around with some other guys, and Hydra said they didn’t have any use for a one-armed cripple, so I kind of gave up on derby for a while. Just about gave up on everything else, too, honestly. I ran into Widow at a coffee shop and she took one look at me and dragged me to a Marvel practice and suddenly I had something to live for again.”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t like being dramatic but… derby pretty much saved my life.”

Steve took a deep breath and reached out to put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Buck… I’m so sorry that happened to you. It’s… god, that’s terrible.” He worried his lip between his teeth a moment, debating whether or not he should say what he next had in mind. “But I’m… I’m glad to have met you, and… that probably wouldn’t have happened if all that hadn’t happened first.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. It was… awful, but I’m… really in a much better place now, and I had to go through all that shit to get here, so… I don’t know. I’m still fucked up in a lot of ways, but I’m pretty happy with where I’m at now.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“JUST KISS ALREADY, ASSHOLES!” 

Steve and Bucky turned their heads just in time to see Sam getting tackled by several other skaters.

Bucky snorted and Steve laughed.

“So hey, speaking of which…”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve. “Yeah?”

“You wanna go out with me sometime?”

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah. Exactly like that.”

The smile on Bucky’s face almost, but not quite, made up for the mustache.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

Looking back, Steve couldn’t say that, like Bucky, derby had saved his life, but it had definitely made it infinitely better.

He was really, _really_ glad when Bucky finally shaved the mustache, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please feel free to visit me [on tumblr,](http://waffilicious.tumblr.com/) and make sure you also visit [Cryo_Bucky](https://cryo-bucky.tumblr.com/) on tumblr to and check out more amazing art and fic!
> 
> As a side note, one of the reasons I was so drawn to this piece was that I actually started with a roller derby team in January--this fic is heavily based on my own experiences. If any of it sounded interesting to you, I highly recommend checking out your local team! Roller derby is hugely accepting and tons of fun, and even if you're not interested in skating, there are a ton of other ways to support it, just starting with attending games!
> 
> Also the Gotham Girls Roller Derby league is the real WFTDA league in NYC, and all of the team names are real teams that are a part of the league. Except for the Marvel Babes, Marvelettes, and Hydra, of course. Those I made up.
> 
> I... probably won't be doing a bang again, for the record. Apparently my brain is getting worse with fic deadlines as I get older. Damn. But this was so fun to write, so I'm really glad I got the chance to do it and to work with Cryo_Bucky. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


End file.
